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CHURCH: Rooted in a Pagain World

Jesus re-counts a series of parables in Matthew 13, most of which deal with agriculture and farming. Following the story of the sower sowing seeds (v. 1-23), he tells about the wheat and the weeds (v. 24-30). Here a farmer sows good seed, but during the night his enemy sowed a weed that grows to look like wheat. In fact, this particular weed is almost indistinguishable from the wheat. Almost. More so, the weed is destructive and can devastate the entire crop, and not just this crop but corrupt the field for years to come. When the workers asked the owner what to do, they assumed the right action was to go out into the field to pull up the weeds. Instead, the owner feared for the wheat. “While you’re pulling the weeds, you may root up the wheat with them. Let them grow together until harvest” (v. 29-30a).

“Let them grow together” is a risky move. I’m not sure I can agree with it, either. Neither do you. We know the sayings, “Birds of a feather, flock together.” “If you lie down with the dogs, you wake up with fleas. “One bad apple can spoil the whole bunch.” ”You’re known by the company you keep.” Even Paul, not satisfied with saying it once, said it twice, “A little yeast works through the whole batch of dough” (1 Cor. 5:6b; Gal. 5:9). So allowing the weeds to grow with the wheat is a risky move and clearly gives bad has an open lane to overtake the good in the process.

But what is the alternative solution? If the workers go out and uproot the weeds, the owner fears that they’ll be unable to distinguish the difference between the weed and the wheat. What looks like a weed may in fact be uprooted wheat and what is passed over as wheat may in fact be weed destroying the wheat around it. Allow each scenario to play out in your mind and it’s like a catch-22; either choice is fraught with risk.

The parable gives us cause to pause. We tend to be like the workers, believing that we can clean up the field by rooting out the evil. We know and can spot the difference between the wheat and the weed, and uprooting them is possible without destroying the wheat. Or so we believe. But in our attempt to clean up the world, we do more damage and destruction than if we were patient. Allowing the wheat and the weed to grow together until the harvest provides clear distinction between the two so that the Owner himself can oversee the separation process.

God’s Church is rooted in a pagan society. The biblical story is clear and does not gloss over the reality that we live in a fallen world. Sin is prevalent and pervasive. Like a weed it takes hold of people at their roots to steal nutrients and to suck out life. We’re called to grow and thrive in a field that has more than its fair share of weeds. Our calling sets the bar very high. We’re planted in a pagan society, but the pagan society is not to take root in or lives.

Herein lies the problem. We’ve convinced ourselves that the society we live in is better, sanitized and even “Christianized;” sometimes it feels like it is while other times it’s as pagan as any other society. We’ve come to believe that we’re planted in a field without weeds or at least the weeds are minimal at best. Thus, we’re confused and disorientated when we see society acting so un-Christ-like, or see morals and ethics continue its decline. We pray for our leaders, but it feels like we’re wasting our breadth. We pray for a society that ultimately is choking us out.

So as we tend to our field, we trust in the Owner’s wisdom. We shy away from rooting out the weeds in fear of rooting out the wheat. Instead, we continue to work the ground so that the wheat will grow and bear fruit (Gal. 5:22-23). So when hate ravages, we cultivate love. When despair expands, we nurture joy. When conflict and turmoil overtake, we foster peace. When intolerance extends, we develop patience. When cruelness chases, we pursue kindness. When stinginess rears its ugly head, we enrich with generous goodness. When disloyalty and falsehood dominates, we plant truthful faithfulness. When self-indulgence influences, we encourage self-control. Because, when we’re rooted in a pagan world, we still have to grow.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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An Impossible Dream: Wannabe Knights Fighting Windmills

A hero lives within all of us. We champion the weak while triumphing over the wicked. Most of us have nurtured the hero at a young age by wearing a cape or mask and maybe packing a toy side arm. We pretended trees were our forts, boulders were lookout points and our bicycles were our horses. We fought our enemies and secured the safety of the damsel in distress. We dreamed an impossible dream.

As we entered adulthood the hero within us never died, but continued to thrive as we championed greater causes. Maybe we feed the homeless in a soup kitchen. Maybe we help lead one of the addiction support groups. Maybe we volunteer to read at the local elementary school. Maybe we collect supplies for a children’s home or loose change for a crisis pregnancy center. Deep down we know we’re doing good and helping overcome something bad.

Life can be complicated. And the battles we choose to fight hold the life we live in the balance, or at least we believe so. Too many times we’ve convinced ourselves we’re fighting giants when we’re really fighting windmills, and the dream is impossible to realize.

Don Quixote was the Man of La Mancha. A man of chivalry. A knight, or at least he saw himself as a knight. With his squire by his side, who was actually a poor farmer named Sancho, Don Quixote sought out his adventures to conquer evil and to save the good. His most notorious battle was the fierce giant. Everyone else only saw him fail at taking down a windmill.

I once had a conversation with my college roommate, Mike Anderson. Trying to be respectful, I was seeking insight to the personality of a mutual friend. This person tended to exaggerate problems and events, in part to make himself the hero of the story. At least that was my assessment. With Mike always diplomatic and a kind person, I needed him to taper my opinion. Instead, he concurred, saying, “Well, Jon, he does like to fight his windmills.” When we’re wannabe knights fighting windmills, it’s an impossible dream to reach.

Herein lies the difficulty of anyone who watches Don Quixote fight their windmills. A sense of reality has been abandoned and no one can tell the knight that what stands before him/her is only a windmill, not a giant. Or Don Quixote creates a crisis in order to pretend he/she has the answer to the produced problem. Either way, reality has been sacrificed for drama, and Sancho convincing The Man of La Mancha otherwise is just as futile as Don Quixote fighting the windmills.

Since trying to stop a person from fighting windmills is in and of itself an impossible dream, then redirecting our time and energy into something else might be more beneficial. By focusing on Jesus’ ministry we can solidly ground our own ministries and avoid chasing windmills.

Mark 10:45 is often thought of as the focal point to Mark’s gospel. Jesus, in responding to the disciples who wanted the top places of power in the kingdom, told them that “. . . the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Two words in this one verse brings discipleship and ministry away from the windmills and straight to its core.

Serve. Jesus didn’t expect people to serve him, but he did his best to serve others. The most explicit moment recorded of him serving is the washing of the disciples’ feet in John 13. Humiliating and degrading, Jesus willingly performs the task everyone else felt was beneath them. Regulated to the low-man on the totem pole, Jesus embraced and modeled servanthood for us. As one cliché nails this moment, “People don’t care about how much you know until they know how much you care.” Serving bridges the gap between what you know and how much you care.

Sacrifice. While Jesus had envisioned his crucifixion when he spoke these words, his entire ministry was cradled in sacrifice. He gave up heaven for earth (Phil 2:5-11). He gave up his time and energy so that he may heal the masses of people who came to him. Day after day he emptied himself so that God might fill him again to repeat the process time and time again.

Service and sacrifice keep ministry and discipleship well-grounded, not to mentioned, humbled. Even if we decide to fight windmills, and the temptation is always present for those battles, perspective and credibility is always built on service and sacrifice. Only then is the dream possible.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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A Royal Headache: The Strings Attached to the Crown

News from across the pond travels as fast as soundwaves, and is often felt like shockwaves reverberating on the waters. This week was no different as Harry and Meghan sat down with Oprah in a tell-all interview. Some of the details they outlined were headline-grabbing giving Buckingham Palace a royal headache. But are we really surprised? The Royal Family has had its fair share of drama from Charles and Diana to Charles and Camilla to Andrew’s link to Jeffery Epstein. The Royals could produce their own reality TV and, no doubt, be a blockbuster sell.

Harry and Meghan have abandoned their connection to the monarchy and moved to America to seek their lives independent of Great Britain. From Harry’s perspective he lost his mother and lays much of the blame on the British media. The same British media intruding on his private life then is intruding on his life now. He levels another part of the blame on The Firm, the insider term to describe the destructive and controlling system overlaying the Monarchy. That same system squeezed out his mother and was already squeezing out his wife. Clearly, being a Royal means that there are strings attached to the crown, and sometimes those strings have tangled with people’s lives. Fearing for their future, they chose to cut the strings, sort of, and walk away from the system to pursue life on their own terms.

I didn’t sit down to watch the interview, I have other things to worry about than tuning into wealthy, aristocratic sibling rivalry. But the interview blew up the news cycle. Even though the colonies broke from the Empire over 200 years ago, like an abusive relationship, we’re too emotionally attached to a family that has no control over our lives. So with Oprah leading the way, America (and other parts of the world) tuned in to what Harry and Meghan had to say. And they said a lot.

As much as I like Harry, and obviously I don’t know him personally, choosing a tell-all format is an unhealthy way to deal with conflict. In fact, it’s a power move because they have inside information they’re willing to share select pieces of with the world. They have evidence that should be kept within the confines of Buckingham Palace. Tell-all venues feed the goods and gossip, making you feel good in the moment. Unfortunately, the fallout leaves you feeling dirty. Sure, Harry tried protecting his grandmother from accusation, but the fan is too large to keep her from being hit with the words. What is clear is that between Diana and Meghan’s experience, the Cinderella-type stories are lies built with a house of cards. Ordinary people have no common identity with the Royals.

But two other statements from the interview are worth highlighting because they reach beyond aristocratic and paupers. The first is the fear of seeking mental health for the supposed stigma attached to it. Meghan was undergoing an emotional breakdown and the palace was afraid of the news media having a field day with that information. Denial of a problem is the real sign of weakness; seeking help is step of strength. Owning weakness is not only biblical but at the heart of the gospel (2 Cor. 12:5, 9-10). I’m not sure how the media would have responded, but I know individuals suffering are fearful of what people around them will say if they found out. Someone struggling with depression keeps suffering in silence. A marriage begins to unravel but signing up for counseling might expose the façade they’ve managed to create, so the marriage continues to unravel. Someone fears going to the doctor because something else wrong might be discovered. In the process, the condition worsens. Real strength acknowledges our weakness and steps into getting help.

The other statement came, not from Harry’s grandparents, but from the Firm. He refused to share the source, family or staff members, but the statement is disturbing at so many levels. “They” were disturbed by the possible skin tone of Harry and Meghan’s baby, Archie. People obsessed with optics rarely are concerned about people, but are focused on themselves. As unnerving as a preoccupation with skin color is, God has never focused on color. He’s focused on the heart (1 Sam. 16:7). Our own sinfulness keeps us from embracing and celebrating the diversity of God’s color scheme. Or the vision Martin Luther King once conveyed, we judge people not on the color of their skin but on the content of their character.

Before Meghan married Harry, British comedian, John Oliver, said that the Royal family was “. . . an emotionally stunted group of fundamentally flawed people.” He’s probably right. When anyone or family is focused on image and optics, then issues will be ignored and swept under the carpet. When a person or family of power is concerned with only image and optics, then the damage in its wake is severe. But we don’t have to be a Royal family to experience such dysfunction. We can take an honest look at ourselves.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)